


Superimpose

by ViciousVentriloquist



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fantasizing, Jae-Ha's also got it pretty bad, Kija & Jae-Ha Bonding, Kija's got it bad, Kija-centric, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViciousVentriloquist/pseuds/ViciousVentriloquist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kija tries to ignore his budding feelings for the princess; he really does. He asks for nothing more than to be her loyal servant, even with Hak at her side...but following an unsettling and eye-opening conversation with Jae-ha, he witnesses something that he wishes he hadn't. </p><p>Yet, at the same time, he finds it hard to look away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superimpose

**Author's Note:**

> Akatsuki no Yona is my newest favorite anime, and boy do I want a second season. I liked it enough to actually go and read the manga, and that's saying something.  
> Anyway, I was dismayed at the realization that there aren't many Kija-centric fics out there, and he doesn't nearly get enough love. So, to rectify this, I decided to make my own story...where he still doesn't get enough love. Oh, well. I was in the mood for some angst as well as smut, so I hope this came out well regardless. It takes place sometime after the anime ends, but before we learn about Zeno's past. (It doesn't really matter, though.)

The day starts off like any other.

Ever since Jae-ha and Zeno had joined their group, things had begun to get progressively more chaotic, so it doesn't surprise Kija that he is woken up in the morning by angry yelling.

Not in the slightest, as a matter of fact. He's hardly fazed by Yun's characteristic chastisements, which are especially frequent now that their large group is whittling down their rations. Coupled with the way some of the others push the young boy's buttons (Hak in particular), Kija has come to expect this pattern of behavior. Day in, day out—it never fails to surprise him.

What _does_ surprise him, however, is the grotesquely large spider that sits idly on the corner of his blanket. He stiffens within his covers, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he curses his already bad luck for the day.

What he doesn't know is that the worst is yet to come.

* * *

Half a panic attack later, he manages to disentangle himself from his sleeping quarters and join the others at the campfire that Yun had prepared; the aforementioned boy wears an annoyed glare, and with a quick glance to his left Kija targets the source of his frustration as being none other than Son Hak—not that he had expected anything different. The other three dragons are here as well, the newest recruit sporting a bright grin while Jae-ha smirks disconcertingly at the cooking food.

Of course, his eyes don't wander for long before they start to sting, and he's unable to stop them from lingering on the true object of his attention.

How could he ever avoid doing it in the first place? It's not as though the others don't stare at her as well; he's noticed them doing it on several occasions (especially Hak), and it causes an ache to bloom in his chest every time—because surely, no one else can be as affected by his master's presence as he.

It's all he can do to avoid going into cardiac arrest any time she looks at him for longer than six seconds, and even that number is being generous. Half the time he swoons at receiving a mere passing glance from the red-haired girl. And why wouldn't he? Princess Yona is no beauty to be scoffed at. Her presence demands attention, and the urge is particularly strong considering the fact that he is one of the Dragon Warriors. It's to be expected that she instill a certain level of awe in him.

But even so, Kija sometimes can't help but feel that there is something more to be said for the intensity of his emotions. He is meant to serve the princess, but at other times he cannot resist the temptation to think of more than that…

Even now he can feel himself staring at her, his eyes riveted to her form as she laughs at Yun's crass criticism of her childhood friend. Her eyes sparkle for a moment before they close out of mirth, her crimson hair covering part of her face as she shields it from their view. He wants to tell her to stop, because this way he's incapable of seeing her as she displays her happiness. He isn't like Shin-ah, who is able to see every fine detail of the young woman, and he isn't like Hak, who would prefer to push her buttons as his form of flirting. No, all Kija wants is to see her, in all her glory, even if she doesn't feel the same.

Even if she doesn't see him…

"Kija? Did you hear me?"

He stutters, at first believing that his delusional mind had conjured up an image of the princess staring at him from across the campfire. When instead of looking away as he expects, her large eyes fill with blatant concern, the young man finally snaps back to his begrudging reality.

"P-Pardon me, hime-sama?" he splutters. Instantly, he can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he curses his body's traitorous reaction to his master's attention.

Yona smiles kindly back at him, and for a moment Kija wants to tell her to stop, because it's not helping him regain control at all, as a matter of fact she's only making it worse, and any minute now his head will surely implode—either that, or he will simply faint from due humiliation.

"I asked if you were okay," she says, her eyes shining with kindness and just a hint of worry. Privately, he is touched that she even bothers to care for his wellbeing—but then again, that is also what makes her so appealing in the first place. Though she could have tried to rule the Dragons by force, she instead treats them as equals. As _comrades_. "I said good morning, but you didn't respond. You just had this sort of vacant look in your eyes. You aren't feeling ill, are you?"

His mouth hinges open in bafflement, but before he can respond to her inquiry a small hand touches his forehead.

"What the—?"

"He doesn't have a fever," Yun mutters from above him. _When did he get there? I didn't see him move at all_ … "His face looks red, though. Did something happen?"

Kija desperately tries to formulate a response, but anything he can think of sounds pathetic even to him. "I…"

"He was probably scared out of his wits by bugs," Hak observes in his usual impassive voice. "There are a lot of them around here, after all. No doubt you're all embarrassing him with your attention. Right, White Snake?"

 _I really do hate that man sometimes._ "That's not it—and don't call me that! I…"

"Did you have a nightmare?" Shin-ah asks in his usual soft monotone.

"Is that it? Zeno can keep you company at night from now on!"

 _Anything but that. I'd rather they think I'm afraid of bugs than having nightmares…_ But try as he might, Kija cannot find the words to dispute any of their theories. All he seems capable of doing right now is sitting on the ground, his face deep rouge and legs shaking with pent-up nerves. A part of him even wonders if they can tell what he's thinking just by looking at him, and all they're doing now is purposely antagonizing him—but no, Yona would never do that to him. She cares about him, and wants to know what's wrong with one of her precious people. That's all. He should be grateful…

Before he can stop himself, his eyes once again return to the princess, and for a split second he feels his posture relax. As he stares into those large purple orbs, Kija momentarily forgets the tension in the clearing, and he even disregards what is happening around him.

And, much to his horror, it seems that someone notices his shift in behavior.

"Ah, I see," Jae-ha whispers, and he stiffens at the other man's knowing tone. "I think I know what's going on with our White Dragon."

"Hm? What is it?" the princess asks.

Kija's eyes find Jae-ha's now, and if the older man can see the pleading expression in them he doesn't say so.

 _He can't tell, can he? None of the others said anything…Jae-ha, if you can, please don't tell them, especially the princess! I'd sooner tell Hak than her! It would only make things horribly awkward_ …

He silently pleads with the green-haired man, whose droopy-eyed gaze roves over his face and body once before returning to Yona.

"You see, Yona-chan, our friend Kija-kun appears to have overindulged himself last night," Jae-ha quips with a sly grin.

_W-What? What is he talking about?_

As if mirroring his own thoughts, Yona asks, "What do you mean?"

"Do you recall when I went into town a few days ago to pick up supplies?"

"Unfortunately," Yun mutters, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Jae-ha appears not to hear the younger male. "Well, I might have procured something else along the way, and I may or may not have convinced Kija-kun to partake with me last night."

"You mean alcohol?!" Yun snaps, his face reddening enough to match Kija's scarlet cheeks. "What do you have to say for yourself, wasting our money like that? You must be joking!"

"Sorry, Yun-kun—I thought it would be fine, seeing as I helped to earn part of that money."

"Still…" the boy mumbles, his eye twitching in subdued irritation.

 _What a horrid lie! I wouldn't dare to partake in such a waste of the princess's resources!_ He's about to open his mouth and deny Jae-ha's ludicrous accusation—for the moment disregarding why the man had bothered to lie in the first place—but before he can, Yona turns to look at him once again, and the words die in his throat.

"Is that true, Kija?" she asks innocently, not a trace of malice in her tone. If anything, she sounds curious.

And then, for a reason even he can't comprehend, he responds with a timid _yes_. "I'm sorry, hime-sama. It won't happen again…"

"Never thought I'd see the day," Hak observes with a taunting lilt to his voice. "The responsible White Snake getting a hangover? I'll never let you live this down."

Yona intervenes on his behalf before he has a chance to respond to Hak's jab.

"Leave him be, Hak," she chastises her bodyguard. "The others have a right to relax sometimes, don't they? We aren't in any danger for the moment, so it's not like the two of them did anything horrible. If anything, I'm glad that Jae-ha and Kija seem to be bonding."

 _Bonding…?_ He chances a glance at Jae-ha, feeling his nose wrinkle at the prospect of consuming alcohol in his presence—or consuming alcohol at all, really. He had never particularly liked the stuff, and it only tends to cause more problems than it solves.

"Anyway," Yona continues, "as long as he promises to take care of himself, I don't have a problem with it. Okay, Kija?"

His heart hammers against his ribcage when the red-haired girl smiles at him, and he digs his claws into his calf in an attempt to control his shaking limbs. "Y-Yes, hime-sama. Thank you, but I promise it won't happen again. For once, I believe Hak is right. The last thing I want to do is have you be in danger when I'm in no condition to protect you…"

"Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine! So you don't have to worry about me so much, okay? There are probably more important things on your mind."

All he can think about is how utterly and completely wrong she is, and about how there is no way for him to ever stop worrying about her wellbeing—because no matter what she may think, the most important thing on his mind will always be her.

But, like always, all he can do is force out a meager nod.

* * *

They travel all day, and for the entire time Kija finds his eyes hopelessly attached to the princess as she walks beside Hak. No matter what he does or how he tries to distract himself, his stare ultimately returns to the back of her head, the hidden outline of her body in the cloak, and sometimes even her exposed ankles.

_What on earth am I doing, watching her? She would probably find it appalling that I can't keep my eyes away. I should stop…_

(He doesn't.)

He is almost relieved when they finally decide to set up camp for the night, because it means that the sky has darkened enough to where it makes it harder to see her. Even if an unsettlingly large part of him is disappointed, the rational part finds relief in it. He's never relished overcomplicating matters.

"I'm going to sleep," the princess announces to them all, rubbing one of her eyes with a closed fist. "Hak, do you want to share a tent? You're a bit big to be sharing space with the others now."

The ex-General pauses for a moment as he rifles through his belongings. "Sure," he finally says. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

No one reacts to their exchange outwardly, but as for Kija, he feels his heart sink just a little bit more at the thought of Yona, his master, sharing a living space with that beast of a man. Who knows what he would try to do to her? With the way his predatory eyes constantly linger on the young woman, he wouldn't be surprised if Hak tried something in the middle of the night…

His face heats up at the thought, and in an attempt to soothe his nerves he retreats to the outskirts of the camp. Finding refuge at the base of a large tree, Kija sinks onto the ground and leans against it, sighing into the cool night air and closing his eyes.

"Escaping, are we?"

With a shocked yelp, the young man slips onto his side, whipping his head around to see none other than Jae-ha staring down at him.

"Jae-ha?" he gasps as he wipes off a layer of dirt. _How did I not notice him? Was I really that caught up in my own thoughts?_ "What are you doing, following me out here?"

The green-haired man shrugs. "I was curious. You've been acting strangely all day—and besides, you never thanked me properly for covering for you."

Kija forces out a grumbled "thank you," which Jae-ha graciously eats up before plopping down on the ground beside him.

A few moments of empty silence pass, punctuated by Kija's morose expression, before the other man finally strikes up a conversation.

"So," he begins matter-of-factly, "you're in love with the princess, are you?"

Kija nearly bites his own tongue. "W-What?"

"I have to say, I figured you were from the beginning." Jae-ha continues on as though he hadn't even heard the white-haired man. "It's painfully obvious to me, even if the others can't tell. I get the feeling that Shin-ah is too daft to notice these kinds of things, and as for Zeno, I can never really tell what's going on in that mind of his. Hak most likely thinks you have an unwavering devotion to her, and at most a mere infatuation. I doubt he considers you as possible competition."

"Competition?" he stutters, disbelief and dread curling in the pit of his stomach. "You don't think that he would make advances towards our master, do you?"

Jae-ha grunts thoughtfully, folding his arms across his chest as he leans further into the tree. "If I had to guess, I would say that it's on his mind. At the very least, it's obvious that he wants Yona-chan for himself. I doubt he'll be able to control himself forever, what with them sharing the same tent."

Kija is so caught up in his own panic that he hardly takes note of the hint of disappointment—and perhaps even jealousy—in the other dragon's tone. "I…" He trails off, at a momentary loss for words.

"What was that?"

His dragon's claw clenches in his lap, his blood boiling as his mind conjures up the image of his nightmares: the princess, splayed out in a deep slumber as the former General sits beside her, his fierce eyes trailing across the young woman's helpless form…

He can hardly bear to think about it.

"…I can't stand it," he whispers. "The thought of him, with the princess…it's nearly unbearable, knowing that no matter what, I can never…"

"…You can never take his place in her heart."

Though the last part stings a bit (even if he knows it's true), Kija is more preoccupied with trying to deny any and all aspects of Jae-ha's assessment. "Why are you saying such things? The princess is…well, she's…"

"Your master—our master, if you prefer," Jae-ha corrects himself. "I know, no matter how much I wish it weren't true. You can fight it all you want, but that doesn't mean the feelings will go away. If even I can't resist them, I don't expect you to be able to…"

"…Jae-ha?"

"Hm?"

Kija bites his lip. "I think I'm going mad," he whispers.

The green-haired man raises an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"It's just…well, I try not to, but sometimes I find myself staring at the princess for minutes at a time. And almost every day, too—I get so caught up in staring at her that I almost forget where I am. And whenever she looks at or talks to me, my face heats up and I stutter. I'm happy, but at the same time it's exhausting! And then…whenever I see her talking to Hak—he flirts with her so outrageously, too, even worse than you—my chest hurts. It feels almost like my heart is shrinking. It's getting unbearable, and I don't know what to do. What do you think, Jae-ha?"

Much to his surprise, the other man doesn't look at all concerned by Kija's confession. On the contrary, he appears downright _amused_. A knowing grin sits on his face, and it only serves to heighten Kija's frustration.

"What is it?" he snaps, irritated by the man's teasing expression.

"Oh, nothing—it's just so amusing to watch someone so young and innocent try to navigate their way through love, even if it is a product of the blood they were born with. I almost feel bad for you."

"Love?"

"Tell me, Kija-kun," Jae-ha says, "how do you think about the princess?"

" _How_ do I think about her? What do you mean?"

If possible, Jae-ha's grin grows even wider, and the butterflies in his stomach begin to churn in earnest. "I mean, do you ever think about her when she's not around? About how she would act if you two were alone?"

"I don't know if…"

"I do," Jae-ha admits casually. "She seems pretty oblivious to Hak's advances, so I like to think of her as being the type who's initially shy. She'll act flustered and embarrassed at first, but I know there's a fiery edge to her. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to find it." He shoots Kija a sly look out of the corner of his eye. "What about you? What parts of our princess do _you_ want to explore?"

All at once, Jae-ha's innuendos finally get through to him, and Kija darkens to a shade of crimson that rivals Yona's hair.

 _Her beautiful hair_ … _no, stop that! Stop thinking about her!_

"Jae-ha!" he scolds the other man. "How… _indecent_ , to say such things about our master! What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing that you don't seem to be suffering from yourself," the man mutters, a disappointed gleam in his eye. "It's a pity that you seem intent on denying these feelings. Holding things in isn't good for you, you know."

"Neither is being so lecherous towards the princess."

"True, but at least I'm not denying that the feelings exist." Jae-ha sighs then, and without warning he pushes himself back to his feet. He pauses to wipe the dirt off of his clothes, and then says one last thing to Kija before heading back towards the camp.

"In any case, you might want to consider talking to her about it," he suggests. "I'm capable of hiding my true intentions beneath a perverted guise—which, I might add, isn't necessarily a lie—but you currently have no outlet for your frustration. In your case, the only course of action might just be to talk with her."

"Talk with her…?"

"Yes—you know, that thing we humans do when in the middle of a crisis of conscience. It can't hurt, can it?"

* * *

He stays away from the camp for a bit longer, telling himself that he can at least watch out for any covert ambushes while working up the courage to confront Princess Yona. He knows that this reasoning is an excuse, however, and a poor one at that. If he's being honest, Kija isn't sure that he even wants to take Jae-ha's advice. He isn't accustomed to these types of sensitive emotional situations, and seriously debates whether or not the mental toll is worth the possible payoff of venting his feelings to the red-haired girl.

_In this case, is honesty really the right way to go?_

There's only one way for him to find out, as unsavory as it is, but even with the chance of humiliation Kija cannot resist the temptation to confess.

He returns to the camp around an hour later, nearly freezing from exposure to the elements, and finds that everyone else has already fallen asleep. He had expected as much, and sighs in relief at the fact that he can at least have some time to organize his thoughts before speaking to his master. Maybe if he can come up with a plan, or a rough script of sorts, it will make getting his thoughts across that much easier. It can't hurt to think about what he's going to say to her, at least…

As Kija takes a step toward the others' tent, he stops in his tracks; a faint rustling sound emanates from behind him, and with practiced silence he spins on his heel to face the potential threat.

There's nothing there, and it takes a moment for the young man to realize where the sound came from: the princess's tent.

 _And Hak's_ , he reminds himself with a grimace. _It was probably just one of them moving in their sleep. That's all. Nothing more_ …

But just as he makes to turn back around and enter his own sleeping quarters, he hears it again: a subtle, throaty groan, so faint that it nearly escapes detection by his ears—but he isn't referred to as a warrior for nothing, and to him the sound is as plain as day.

 _What the…?_ He is almost willing to write it off as a restless dream, but something in him resists such an explanation. He doesn't know how, but Kija cannot help but think that something is off about the situation.

So he gets closer, careful to silence his footsteps as much as possible to avoid waking either of the tent's occupants. He edges over to the haphazardly sealed flap, gets to his knees, and is about to stick his eye between the small crack in the fabric when something else makes his whole body freeze.

" _Hak…"_

A breathy, feminine groan issues from within, and all at once Kija finds that his mouth has gone dry.

_H-Hime-sama..._

The young woman's voice sounds strained, and with a heart-wrenching gulp his heart speeds up; it seems almost as though she is in distress, perhaps even in pain, and the way she had said the large man's name…

_Is he…hurting her?!_

Images of the monstrous Thunder Beast bringing harm to his master—and there are so many ways, so many horrifying manners in which he could torment her—assault the white-haired man, and before he realizes it his hands begin to shake—not in fear, but in anger, unbridled anger that fills him to the point of near-insanity. He imagines him hovering over her, pinning her small body with his own as he forces his sinful desires onto her, tainting her with evidence of his own lust-fueled actions.

Kija can't stomach the thought, and without thinking twice about his decision he brings his eye up to the tent's opening—and is promptly blown away by what he sees.

Never, in all of his time with Princess Yona, has he imagined anything akin to what he sees when he peeks through the hole in the tent. Though he will admit that he occasionally harbors impure thoughts, never has he pictured anything so… _lascivious_.

He had anticipated seeing Hak loom over her like a predator, his large body covering hers as he takes advantage of her weaker form to satiate his own lust. What he knows of sexual desire has been from books and his own bodily responses, and from what he has read he had gathered that there is one key way to go about the process—this isn't to say that he has never thought of anything different, but it's safe to say that he has never considered _this_.

Instead of lying on top of her, Hak is lying, fully clothed, between Yona's parted thighs. The first thing, Kija notices with a feverish flush, is that the princess— _his master_ —is completely and utterly nude. Her torso is bare and pale, displaying the bright red blush on her skin plainly beneath the scant moonlight that reaches through the tent's fabric.

Against his will, Kija finds his eyes irrevocably drawn to her breasts; though small, they flatten enticingly to her body as she writhes in the man's grasp, and her own hands periodically slide across and around her blushing chest. He nearly chokes on his own spit as she releases a breathy little moan, and does so again as one of her hands grasps a swollen tip between her two fingers.

" _Hak_ ," she says again, and it is at that moment when Kija notices said man's position.

His head is between her legs, buried in the unknown crevice of her inner thighs as it moves in a steady rhythm against her. His large hands grip her legs, holding them down with blatant force as her stomach flexes and twists underneath him. Her feet are bare as well, and Kija swallows dryly as he sees her toes curl against the ground at the same time her face twists in obvious bliss.

_Is he…doing that to her?_

He most certainly is—and Yona seems to be enjoying every bit of it, if her increasingly loud moans are any indication.

Even Hak is wary of her volume, as for a brief moment he pauses in his ministrations.

"You know, hime-sama," he says in a husky tone, his mouth barely an inch away from her most private part; Kija blushes deeply as his eyes detect the faintest hint of crimson curls, "if you don't lower your voice, I'm going to have to silence you…"

" _Hak_ …you're awful," the princess whispers, this time in a much lower volume than before. Her chest heaves with the effort to remain silent, and at the erotic sound of her voice Kija feels his own stomach twist in pleasure.

"You like it, though," Hak says with a smile in his tone, and promptly resumes his activity.

His own groin begins to ache as Yona releases breathy cries into her palm, and her obvious pleasure starts to build along with his own. A part of him—the rational part—tells him to run away, to go back to his own tent and pretend that he had never witnessed any of this.

But he doesn't think he can.

And the worst part is…he isn't sure if he wants to.

In direct defiance of his usual modest behavior, Kija stays and watches them, his eyes riveted on the princess's face and body as Hak drives her to unbearable heights. He hardly notices when his normal hand descends to the front of his cloak, the heel of his palm pressing against his groin in an effort to alleviate some of the pressure that has built up. He doesn't even blink, doesn't swallow as he continues to eat up the young woman's sensual image; he drinks in the scene before him, eager to store it away in his memory, to never forget the way his master looks in this moment.

At the instant she climaxes his eyes widen, and the epitome of euphoria passes over her features like a tidal wave. For a brief second, Kija allows himself the selfish pleasure of observing her, of capturing her in this most personal state.

Instead of Hak being the one to give her such pleasure, to make her legs shake with strain and her mouth gape and whine, he imagines himself in the other man's position. He superimposes his own body over Hak's, and though it only lasts a second, the feeling of gratification and happiness he gets from seeing Yona in such a relaxed, disheveled manner is enough to make him forget his circumstances.

But then it's over all too quickly, and as the mood returns to normal and the red-haired girl settles down, Kija realizes what danger he's in; before the pair has a chance to notice him, he scurries away, dashing towards his own tent with unprecedented speed. It's a bit uncomfortable, given his body's unfortunate reaction, but the thought of getting caught spying on them is infinitely more horrifying.

The last thing he wants the princess to think is that he is a voyeur, no matter how true it may be.

To his grave misfortune, however, Kija underestimates just how long it takes to rid himself of his problem, so for a few uncomfortable minutes he lies in forced silence as the throbbing between his legs persists. The mild snoring of the others around him helps somewhat, but does nothing to relieve his tortured state of mind.

The mental agony remains until morning.

* * *

"Kija?"

He spits up the water in his mouth, his face darkening fifty shades of red as he spins around to face the woman behind him.

Yona, for her part, looks mildly concerned by his jumpy behavior, but to his eternal gratitude she doesn't press him for answers.

"Are you ready to go?" she asks cheerfully, her radiant smile tugging at his heartstrings. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

Kija nods enthusiastically, hoping that his forced smile will be enough to warrant no further concern. "Of course I am, hime-sama. I'm ready whenever you are!"

Her grin broadens, and out of nowhere Kija hates himself; he isn't deserving of her smile. Not someone like him, who had broken every code of conduct in the book for his own selfish desire. If she were to find out what he did last night, surely she would hate him…

"Great," she chirps happily, clutching the strap of her sack of arrows. "Let's go, then! We don't have any time to waste!"

"O-Of course."

He lingers in the back of the group this time around, and pointedly ignores the stares of the other dragons, even Jae-ha's. Not even Yun bothers to prod him for an explanation as to the cause of his distant attitude, and he can only hope that it's because they think he still feels guilty for his fabricated drunken episode with Jae-ha.

It's no matter, though; he much prefers it this way. At least no one is asking him questions; no one wants to pressure him to speak his mind or say what's wrong.

No one wants to talk to him at all.

But even so, he cannot bring himself to be annoyed or angry—not with anyone but himself, at any rate. As long as he is free to accompany the princess, he cannot—and will not—complain. He will gladly put up with anything and everything that comes his way, including the newfound discovery of his master's relationship with her bodyguard. He will continue to wear a smile, even if it's fake; even if he is actually crumbling inside, he will be happy.

As long as he gets to keep watching her.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? Did I do a good job? This is my first fic for Akatsuki no Yona, but I want to write more in the future. I wonder what pairing I should do next...


End file.
